


Avengers Fam Dinner™

by merthurxmalec



Series: Iron dad, Spider son, and maybe-possibly-hopefully (Captain) Step dad Steve [2]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers as family, Eventual superfamily, Gen, How Do I Tag, It's a work in progress, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Pining Steve Rogers, Pining Tony Stark, Steve/Tony endgame, Tony Stark is attracted to Steve Rogers being good with his son send tweet, aunt may is still very much there and being her usual badass self, in this house we do not accept the Russos' made up MCU, kind of, ned leeds is a lil shit, soft irondad, tbh not compliant with anything after homecoming, we STAN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-06-03 11:16:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19462858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merthurxmalec/pseuds/merthurxmalec
Summary: “Peter,” Ned says, his voice ringing out through the empty gym class. “Did you just get asked to hang out with the Avengers by Captain America?”“Yeah,” Peter breathes out. “Yeah, I did.”Ned’s eyes widen almost comically. “Dude,” he says passionately. “What even is your life?!”~or alternatively, how Peter gets stumped by Captain America himself.





	1. Reppin' with Cap

**Author's Note:**

> *leaves this here and hides* 
> 
> So it really took me 84 years to get this out, I'm so sorry! 
> 
> as usual, un-beta'd cos in this house we do it like the lazy shits we are.

Peter took a minute to sit down and contemplate how his life turned out like this.

Despite his… extracurricular activities, Peter is a normal kid. No, really, he is. He still stays up until ungodly hours scrolling through Instagram, wakes up seriously regretting it the next morning and swears he will never repeat the same mistake again (spoiler alert: he does). He moans about getting too much homework and pulls all-nighters to study for a test and worries about college applications. He still hangs out with his best friend, building Lego sets and going to the movies and spends all night binging Brooklyn Nine-Nine (you know, as you do). Sure, sometimes those hang outs end with Peter putting on a multi-million-dollar spandex suit to fight crime, but everyone has their own quirks, right?

Sure, most people don’t have Iron Man turning up to their English class to drop off an assignment, or attend their parent-teacher conferences, but Peter learnt a long time back that Iron Man comes with the red-and-blue glory currently sitting in his locker.

Not that Peter minds, obviously. Absolutely not.

The point is, Peter is just a normal kid. A kid with superpowers who somehow got unofficially adopted by Iron Man, but a kid nonetheless.

But right here, right now, sitting in a corner in the gym with his face in his hands, he isn’t too sure anymore.

Because the thing is – normal kids do not get asked to an ‘Avengers family dinner’ by Captain America himself.

But Peter supposes that is his life now.

* * *

It started, as all things seem to do, in gym class.

Peter never really got the cinematic fascination with gym class. Why did everything happen in gym? What is so fascinating about a room of sweaty teenagers in an enclosed space that makes Hollywood swoon? Gym was just gym – a hour of trying to dumb down his abilities to not look suspicious, an hour of trying to ignore Flash’s taunts and MJ’s subtle, knowing gaze. A hour of counting down every minute until he can bounce out of the snotty place called high school and spend the day (and the weekend) with Mr Stark.

Yeah, gym class sucked in comparison to Tony Stark’s state-of-the-art workshop – candyland for technology nerds such as yours truly.

Showing high-schoolers Captain America’s PSAs was mandatory in every American state. Peter knew that; he had to sit through those torturous things for years after all. What he wasn’t expecting, however, is to come into gym class and see Captain America (finally clean shaven) sitting in a too-small chair next to Mr Jones in full regalia.

_“Dude,”_ Peter hissed as soon as Peter’s eyes met the hideous blue spandex of Cap’s PSA suit, _“hide me.”_

“Peter,” Ned said, stopping in his tracks. He stared at the sight ahead for a long moment, his hands held loosely down his sides. Finally, he looked up at Peter, eyes wide. He grabbed hold of Peter’s arm and started shaking vigorously, with enough strength to budge Peter despite his enhancement. “Peter, that is Captain America.”

“Yeah, Ned,” Peter says, trying to subtly slip into the back row, arm still attached to Ned, who was still staring ahead with barely concealed hero-worship. “I can see that.”

“Good afternoon, Midtown High,” Cap says in his authoritative ‘I’m-Captain-America-listen-to-me-voice.’ Cap scans the expanse of teenagers spread across the room. Peter can tell the exact moment in which Cap notices him, because the shock is evident in Cap’s azure eyes. He locks eyes with Peter, giving a small smile and nod. Peter shrinks further down his seat.

“I am here to show you a few simple fitness circuits…”

Peter groans, bracing himself for what he knows will be a very uncomfortable hour.

* * *

“Peter,” Cap’s voice comes behind him, just as he is about to sneak out of the gym class stealthily. “Got a minute?”

(He can hear Mr Stark’s voice in his head telling him he has the subtlety of a giant tyrannosaurus-rex, but Peter begs to differ. He does secretly fight crime for a living, after all.)

Peter looks at Ned with imploring eyes. Ned smirks, then casually gets his phone out and starts scrolling through what looks like Tumblr. Peter sighs, mentally swearing that he is totally going to _kill_ Ned for violation of his guy-in-the-chair code, then turns and faces Cap with a tight smile on his face.

“Captain Rogers, hi,” he says a little awkwardly. “Do you need anything?”

“No, no,” Cap says. He bites his lips nervously, and Peter feels weird witnessing this. Captain America has a nervous tick – not something they display in Avengers comic books. “I just noticed you haven’t been around the Compound much?”

“Uh-yeah,” Peter says. “I’ve had… exams. Haven’t had much time for internship stuff.”

_You’re not lying to Captain America_ ; Peter tells himself mentally. He really did have exams, but he knows Tony doesn’t feel comfortable having Peter around the other Avengers just yet. Peter can work with that.

“Ah, well,” Cap continues nervously, “we’re having a bit of a team dinner and movie night tonight. Tony mentioned you spend the weekend over there? If you are going to be coming over today, we would love it if you join us?”

Peter stares at Cap in shock. “But I’m not an Avenger?” he asks, adding a silent _‘yet’_ mentally.

“Yes, of course,” Cap says. “But we would all love to get to know you.”

Peter should say no, he knows this. But something about saying no to Captain America whilst he’s staring at him with sad eyes feels like a violation of the Constitution.

“Let me check with Mr Stark to see if he wants me to come over today. If it’s okay with him, I’ll be happy to join you guys, Cap.”

Peter gives himself a mental pat-on-the-back for how well he’s keeping his panic in.

Cap gives him a blinding smile, and Peter can see at that moment why it has been so hard for Tony to let go.

“I’ll see you tonight, son.” Cap says, and Peter nods as he walks away.

The gym is silent for a long moment.

“Peter,” Ned says, his voice ringing out through the empty gym class. “Did you just get asked to hang out with the Avengers by _Captain America_?”

“Yeah,” Peter breathes out. “Yeah, I did.”

Ned’s eyes widen almost comically. “ _Dude_ ,” he says passionately. “What even is your _life?!”_


	2. Irondad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He was looking at me with these sad eyes and it’s gotta be a felony to make Captain America sad right? He’s Captain America!” 
> 
> “Buddy if it was a felony to make Captain America sad,” Tony laughs, “I would be in jail without parole.”
> 
> \- 
> 
> Peter and Tony talk ahead of the dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides*
> 
> I know this is ridiculously late. I was on holiday the last couple of weeks so even though I've had this written up for ages, I didn't get to post it. Considering the wait, this might be a little too underwhelming, sorry! One day I'll learn how to write things. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_“Hi, you’ve reached the voicemail of Tony Stark. If it’s Ross, Fury, any of the Avengers or anyone from SI or SHIELD, leave a message and I’ll try to get back to you sometime between now and a hundred years. If it’s Pepper, I swear I’m not doing whatever it is I’m not supposed to be doing. Oh, and if it’s Peter, what did you do now?”_

Peter groans in frustration. Technically, _he_ hasn’t done anything. Really, he hasn’t! He was just being a good boy, for once going to gym class (granted, because Mr Stark said if Peter gets another detention for missing gym he’s going to lose lab privileges for a week, and only an absolute idiot would voluntarily want to lose lab privileges, but he’s going to gym all the same!) and just generally minding his own damn business. How was he to know that Captain America will turn up to his school and invite him to dinner? But the problem now is that he doesn’t know what to do, and it would really help if Mr Stark just _picked up his goddamn phone._

Peter is seriously contemplating if his enhanced super-healing can handle it if he throws himself in front of a bus so that he can avoid a very awkward dinner with his apparently sort-of extended family (because that is totally his life now) when a sleek, black Range Rover pulls into the curb next to him. The tinted windows roll down to reveal Happy looking, well, _not happy_ , a scowl etched on his face. Not for the first time, Peter remembers Mr Stark telling him that Happy is a heart patient. The human body isn’t exactly Peter’s forte, but all that stress has _got to_ be ridiculously unhelpful.

“Well get in here, kid,” Happy says, swinging the passenger door open, “we haven’t got all day.”

“Hey, Happy,” Peter says, taking his backpack off his shoulder as he slide into the passenger seat. “You would not believe what happened today! So I was in gym right, because Mr Stark said I have to go to gym - where is Mr Stark anyway? He’s not picking up his phone and just saying, that is not cool, man. What’s the use of his helicopter parenting if -“

“I’m going to tell him you said that,” Happy threatens, backing the sleek black Rangerover out of the school as gawking high schoolers stared with barely concealed wonder.

“No, but Happy listen,” Peter says. “So I went to gym class right, and then bam! Captain America is sitting there! And then he comes over to me, all American glory like, and he’s like ‘son, why haven’t you been at the Compound.’” Peter deepens his voice for effect, cringing as the sound that comes out is as in Cap-like as it gets. He makes the mental note to work on his impressions later. “And then he invites me to dinner. What do I do Happy, Captain America invited me to have dinner with the Avengers!”

He turns to gauge Happy’s reaction, only to find the older man slowly moving his head along to whatever music he is listening to, having put his earbuds in sometime during Peter’s panicked speech.

Peter sighs, plugging his own earbuds into his ears as he braces himself for what he is sure will be a very awkward night.

* * *

Tony let out what was most definitely _not_ a squeal.

“Barton, what the actual fuck?” He screamed, his hand impulsively cupping his chest where the arc reactor used to be. The habit had formed very early on, after the whole debacle with Stane. His therapist had called it a coping mechanism, a way to assure himself that he is still alive and well, even long after he had it removed. She had said that it’s a habit that would go away with time, once he had managed to surround himself with people he knew and trusted. And sure enough, the habit had passed once he had met the Avengers, had formed a makeshift family he got to call his own. But then Siberia had happened, and he found himself needing to hear his own heartbeat, ensure that there was still blood running through his veins, that his tired heart was still beating.

(Some days he wished it didn’t, when the seeping cold from Siberia that had settled into his bones made himself apparent, when he could feel the blunt edge of vibranium embed itself into his chest. When he could hear the sound of his heart breaking all over again every time he was unfortunate enough to see the shade of blue he once used to call home. But then again, those moments were more short lived than he would think. The icy cold was driven away by the warmth of a hug after a long day, the pain in his chest dulled by the cheery sound of a teenager’s laugh. The kid quite literally swung into his life and mended the heart he thought would remain broken forever. Soon, he stopped seeking home in azure eyes and found it in warm brown ones instead.)

“Heart already giving up on you, old man?” Clint laughed, and Tony resisted an involuntary flinch. Since the Rogues had come back, Tony seldom felt at peace in his own home. He was forever tiptoeing in the sidelines, trying to avoid the people he knew were also tiptoeing around him. He knows Barnes asks FRIDAY if Tony is out and about in the Compound before venturing out of his room, knows that Steve always leaves food in the fridge for him after waiting for hours for him to shown up to dinner. He catalogues the hurt on Steve’s face with a heavy heart every morning, when Steve opens the fridge to find the food untouched. The look feels like a stab wound in his heart, and yet the pain feels familiar, not unlike the one he has grown accustomed to in the past few years. However, despite all this, Tony surprised himself with the fact that Clint is one of the only Avengers that Tony doesn’t find himself tiptoeing around, with the exception of Bruce and Thor.

“Who are you calling old, Katina?” Tony scoffs, pouring himself what he thinks is his fifth cup of coffee of the day (he lost count sometime after 2 am). “Remind me, but I think only one of us here is the father of a teenager?”

He grins up to see Clint staring at him with a mischievous grin, his hearing aids in his hands. “Sorry old man, can’t hear you.”

“Barton, you littl shit -“

“Boss,” FRIDAY’s voice comes from overhead. “As per the Baby Monitor Protocol, I must inform you that Mr Parker is pulling into the driveway right now.”

“But it’s not Friday?” He asks, opening up a yoghurt. Clint stares at him with barely concealed glee. “It is Friday, man. Are you even on this Earth?”

“It varies from moment to moment,” Tony says, opening up a cupboard to get some bread out. He cuts off the crusts, piling the bread with pieces of chicken and salad, then cutting it into little triangles. He pointedly tries to ignore Clint’s confused gaze as he gets a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and pours it into a large Iron Man mug. He has barely put the glass down on the counter when the elevator opens up and a mess of brown curls bounces through the open floor living room and into the kitchen.

“Heya Mr Stark,” the kid says, dropping his backpack onto the floor. “I’ve been calling you for ages, man. Not cool.”

Tony visibly winces. “Sorry, kid. I was in genius mode. FRIDAY,” he says, staring pointedly at the ceiling, “was supposed to push any important calls onto me.”

“You did not specify that all of Mr Parker’s calls were classed as important, Boss,” FRIDAY says, the sass evident in her voice.

“Cut the sass, FRI,” Tony says, “I will reprogramme you.”

“Sure, Boss,” FRIDAY says, causing Peter to erupt with laughter.

Tony turns to face Peter with a squinted eye. “Sit your ass down kiddo and eat something.”

“I had an apple on the way, Mr Stark!” Peter squeals. “But I need to talk to you.”

“Kid,” Tony says, his voice serious. “Eat.”

Clint watches the exchange with amusement.

“Well, kid,” Clint says, as he walks out of the kitchen with a banana in hand. “Welcome to the family. We’re a little dysfunctional since Mom and Dad are fighting, but we got heart.” He doesn’t wait for a response, instead of leaving Tony and Peter speechless.

“Did Hawkeye just welcome you into the family?” Tony asks, bewildered.

“So did Captain America,” Peter says in a small voice.

Tony swivels around so fast it almost gives Peter whiplash. “What?!” he exclaims. It’s not that Tony is an unreasonable person, per say. Nor does he, or will he ever, try to control what Peter does based on his own discomfort. Peter has always looked up to Captain America - Tony knows this. Knows that the great American hero has inspired a sense of goodness in Peter that Tony would never be able to do. He also knows that Peter doesn’t express this for his sake, because he believes he has been put in a position where he has to choose between Tony and Steve. Right now, Peter chose Tony. But perhaps there’s a voice deep in Tony’s head that conspires that it won’t be long before Peter realises everything he lacks that Steve doesn’t.

But Tony is fine with that. He loves the kid, and he wants the best for him. The best is always Steve.

And yet there’s a part of him that can’t bring himself up to trust Steve. Tony had given everything to Steve, heart and soul, and Steve left it all at a moment’s notice. The betrayal had damn near killed Tony, and yet he persevered because that is what he does. Maybe a part of him has even forgiven Steve. But when it comes to Peter? When it comes to Peter, Tony can’t take any chances. Tony can trust Steve with his heart, but he can’t find himself trusting Steve with his life. Not anymore. Not when it is Peter.

“Yeah,” Peter says. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. He was at my school today for some fitness exercise thing. Some sort of PR event? Anyways he saw me there and invited me to dinner tonight? I didn’t know what to say, Mr Stark, so I said yes. I panicked! He was looking at me with these sad eyes and it’s gotta be a felony to make Captain America sad right? He’s Captain America!”

“Buddy if it was a felony to make Captain America sad,” Tony laughs, “I would be in jail without parole.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Stark,” Peter says. “I tried to get out of it, honest, but I didn’t know what to say. I can still cancel, if you want!”

“No, no,” Tony says hurriedly. “Kid, whatever happened between Cap and I happened, and it is our problem. I don’t want you to be involved in it, or feel like you need to avoid anyone on my account. Cap and I are both adults. We can handle our issues. But he’s right, you do need to know the Avengers. Being associated with me is risky kiddo, and you are the future of Stark Industries and the Avengers.”

Peter blushes and stammers, like he always does when Tony mentions his upcoming inheritance.

“I may not be ready to kick the bucket yet,” Tony says, “but it will happen eventually. And in the meantime, you need people like Steve and Nat to look out for you. Besides,” he shots Peter a smile, “we all know about your Captain America fanboy days.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Peter asks nervously.

“Of course,” Tony lies. “He’s a good man, buddy. You two would get on splendidly. You have his hero complex.”

Peter laughs, shoving Tony’s arm playfully. “Well,” he says mischievously. “He isn’t an old man like you,”

“The man is pushing a hundred, kiddo!” Tony cries out. “He is a senior citizen.”

“Sure, old man,” Peter sasses,”whatever you say.”

“I’m still your favourite Avenger though, right?” Tony asks, half jokingly. Something inside him awaits Peter’s answer nervously, afraid he’s close to losing the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Nah,” Peter says, shrugging, “that’s Thor.”

Tony mocks offence. “You’re disowned.” He cries. “Pack your bags and leave.”

“You wouldn’t last a day without me,” Peter says grinning.

Tony ruffles his hair, putting an arm around him.

“You’re right, kiddo,” he whispers into Peter’s brown curls. “I wouldn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have like most of the next chapter written up but I am also working on like 5 other fics simultaneously so let's hope I get them up soon.


	3. ok, boomer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Avengers have an awkward 'family dinner', and Peter is not as oblivious as everyone thinks. 
> 
> Steve and Tony are still staring into each other's eyes, because of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *leaves this here and runs*
> 
> This took me a literal age to do, and I am so so so sorry. Uni is kicking my ass, and be assured that whoever tells you it's easier because "you're doing a subject you love!!" is a big , stinking liar and the only appropriate response to them is "ok boomer". 
> 
> But I refused to not update this fic for a decade (ha!) so here ya go! Happy new year!

Peter’s favourite time of the week isn’t the glorious couple of hours he spends every Friday afternoon holed up in the state-of-the-art lab with none other than Tony Stark although that would easily come a very close second. Sure, toying with equipment he could never even dream about, learning firsthand from none other than Tony Stark, is not an experience absolutely any kid in this world can ever even hope to get. And yet, somehow Peter lucked out because TONY STARK saw him on YouTube and decided he will actually associate with Peter Parker. Sometimes, Peter can scarcely believe it. 

Despite that, though, Peter’s favourite time of the week is what they do after the comprehensive lab sessions. Doing science with Tony is the coolest thing in the world, but that can only be rivaled by cuddling on the couch with Tony Stark as they eat dinner and argue about what to watch. When the Rogue Avengers came back, Peter thought those nights may stop, but Tony only smirked at him before pushing him into his private penthouse and telling him to pick something on Netflix while he orders in the food. 

Peter may just be the luckiest shit alive. 

Today, it was Peter’s turn to pick, and he was pretty excited to finally make Tony start watching The Good Place. He is a little upset he and Tony will be missing their usual Movie Night, but he can’t find it in himself to be too mad about it. 

After all, he is about to have dinner with the Avengers. 

He is a little nervous about it, despite what Tony tells him. Tony may pretend he’s fine with it, but Peter likes to think that he is quite versed in reading Tony Stark after all these months. He saw Tony after the fight in Berlin, after Tony had mysteriously disappeared somewhere and came back beaten and bruised, and with a stony expression in his eyes Peter can’t really forget. Saw the brief moment of panic in his eyes when Captain Rogers and Sargeant Barnes had come into the room that day the Rogues came back, the way he had stepped in front of Peter as if to block them from their view. He notices that Tony flinches everytime the Captain is mentioned, the reaction only barely covered by the look of pain, and longing that is always, always, present in his eyes. Peter can be quite oblivious and dumb with certain things, but he knows his Tony, and he knows that Captain Rogers hurt Tony in a way that broke the man into shreds. So Tony may pretend he is fine with sitting through dinner with the Captain and the Avengers and Peter, but then again, the entire world has seen Tony Stark’s self-sacrificial tendencies. Peter isn’t fooled. 

And yet, despite all that, there is a part of him that can barely contain the excitement that is bubbling within him. Peter was a mere ten years old when the Avengers had saved New York, and Peter - like every other kid his age - was captivated by them. These were heroes, who had defeated the evil against all odds. The badass superspies who excelled despite their human constraints. Bruce Banner, the scientist Peter idiolises, who is feared by many but doesn’t let that stop him from doing good. A literal god, Thor, and does Peter even need to explain how cool that is? Iron Man - Peter’s hero since the day he had seen the red-gold suit fly into the air for the first time. And finally, Captain America - the embodiment of all things good in the world. Peter wanted to be them, wanted to make them proud, and now he is about to go have dinner with them. 

As they exit out of the elevator, Tony places a comforting hand on his shoulder, steering him into the common room. “It’s going to be fine, kiddo,” he says. “They’re going to love you.” 

“What if they figure out I’m Spiderman?” Peter whispers frantically, looking around to make sure no one heard. 

“They won’t,” Tony says, although Peter can hear a flicker of panic in his voice. “Just follow the backstory.” 

Tony gives a reassuring pat on his shoulder, and together they enter the common room. 

Chaos is the first word that enters his mind. 

Steve and Bruce are the first they spot in the open plan kitchen, Bruce adding something to the pan as he talks to Steve, Steve listening to him with rapt attention. “You need to give him time,” he hears Bruce saying, before he rapidly looks away as to not overhear the conversation. 

Sam and Bucky are standing near the fridge, looking as if they are fighting over something inside it. Bucky looks relaxed though, in a way Peter doesn’t think he has ever seen him in the brief glances he got every now and then. Thor is sprawled on the couch next to Clint, both violently playing what looks to be Mario Kart, and Peter lights up at the image. 

“Good, you guys are here,” a voice comes from behind them, and Peter jumps back, dropping his phone from his hands. He recovers quickly though, catching it mere seconds after it dislodges itself from his hands. Natasha Romanoff is staring at Peter, a funny look on her face, and Peter feels himself burn with the intensity of her gaze. “Good reflexes” she comments, and Peter feels a surge of familiar panic in his chest. “Kid has already broken three phones,” Tony says - which, although not a lie, is just rude to say - “his aunt would ground him if he broke another one.” 

“Not if you give it to me for free,” Peter replies cheekily. 

“I told you, kid,” Tony says, smirking, “I am trying to break the cycle of shame. Gotta teach you humility and shit, so you gotta work for what you get.” 

“Ok, boomer,” Peter whispers, and Tony scowls at him, but failing to hide his amusement. He always does love it when Peter sends him memes, although he pretends to be exasperated by it. 

This, this exchange with Tony - it’s familiar and comforting. Peter forgets that they are in the presence of other people until he hears Steve clear his throat, not at all subtly. He can tell Tony had forgotten too, because he stiffens as soon as he hears Steve’s sound. He instinctively moves closer to Peter, an arm curling protectively around his shoulders. Peter watches Steve as Tony does this, and does not miss the way Steve’s face momentarily crumples. Steve recovers quickly though, smiling warmly at Peter. 

“Hi, Peter,” he says, walking towards him before faltering in his step, having thought better. “I’m glad you’re joining us.” 

“Thank you, Captain Rogers,” Peter says politely, giving an awkward wave. 

“Just Steve, please,” he says kindly. His eyes go up to Tony then, and the smile he gives is sad, unsure. “Hey, Tony,” he whispers. 

“Cap,” Tony replies stiffly, and Peter can’t help but sneak a look at Tony’s face. It is barely there, no one would take a second look at him and think he is anything but completely normal, but Peter can see the droop in his shoulders, the rigidness of his jaw, the sadness in his eyes. There is something going on, Peter realises suddenly. 

He doesn’t get time to dwell on it, though, because Thor is pushing forward and is as good as carrying Peter to the table. 

“Come, Starkson,” Thor booms, “let us eat this mighty feast the noble Captain and Doctor have prepared for us.” 

Peter throws a panicked look at Tony, who shrugs as if to say  _ hey, he is your favourite _ . Peter scowls at his betrayal, before realising that Steve was watching this exchange with an amused look on his face. He must have seen the embarrassment in Peter’s eyes, because he smiles at Peter. “I made carbonara?” 

“Oh, that’s Mr Stark’s favourite!” he says, and immediately winces as a thin sheet of ice seems to envelope the room. Tony and Steve both look away, their eyes darting over the room in what looks like an attempt to steadily avoid each other’s eyes. He can see everyone else looking decidedly more uncomfortable, Sam and Natasha giving each other an incomprehensible look whilst Bucky looks down to the floor with an expression that looks oddly like guilt. 

Huh. Interesting. 

Bruce is the first to recover from the awkwardness. 

“Come on, Peter,” he says, placing a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder and steering him towards the big glass dining table laid with food. “The food will get cold.” 

They all sit down around the massive table, Tony and Rhodey (who had turned up just as everyone was sitting down) on either side of him, Natasha and Bruce sitting opposite Peter. Peter helped himself to a normal serving of carbonara and salad. Tony looked disapprovingly at Peter’s portion, before reaching for the dish and starting to pile on more pasta onto Peter’s plate. “Mr Stark!” Peter cried indignantly, red with embarrassment. 

“Shut your face and eat, Parker,” Tony says as he heaps some more salad onto Peter’s full plate.

“Mr Stark, I don’t need this much food!” 

“Don’t be silly, Peter,” Steve intervenes, looking earnest. “You are a growing boy. You must eat your fill.” 

Steve looks at Tony for a split second, as if unsure as to whether or not he has overstepped his boundary. Tony gives the tiniest smile, his mouth curving upwards in a way that does not quite reach his eyes, and yet seems to be the most warmth Peter has seen Tony show Steve since the Rogues walked into the Compound all those weeks ago. Steve’s face relaxes as he notes the gesture, a genuine smile spreading across his plate. Steve reaches for the breadsticks. 

“Would you like some breadsticks, Peter?” he asks. “There is garlic bread as well, but FRIDAY said you are allergic to garlic?” 

Peter is honestly a little touched that Steve inquired about his allergies, even though he hasn’t really been allergic to garlic since the bite. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Tony with an unreadable expression on his face, looking at Steve in a way which is a stark contrast from the cold way he has been looking at him all this time. His face is relaxed, soft, and there is a hint of a smile on his face. In this moment, he looks unlike any version of Tony Peter has ever seen. 

“I would love some breadsticks, thank you Captain,” Peter says, breaking Tony out of his trance. 

“Call me Steve, son,” Steve laughs. 

“Good luck getting him to call you that, Cap,” Tony says with a playful tone. “I have been trying to get the kid to call me ‘Tony’ since the day I met him.” He is heaping pasta onto his plate as he says this, not quite looking anyone in the eye, and yet the whole room stills almost comically as Tony directly addresses Steve. Steve himself looks like a deer caught in the headlights, his hands frozen over where they were piling breadsticks onto Peter’s almost heaping plate. Peter could swear he can see the Captain blink away tears. 

“My aunt taught me to respect my elders,” Peter says, more to break the tension than anything. 

“Where is the respect when you keep calling me ‘boomer’?” Tony asks with an exaggerated eye roll. “It’s for the culture, Mr Stark! I must spread zee memes!” 

The whole table laughs at this exchange, although Steve and Bucky look appropriately confused. Peter makes a mental note to teach Captain America and the Winter Soldier meme culture. 

“So, Peter,” Sam says, “what’s your deal, man? Aren’t you like, eleven?” 

Peter rolls his eyes, and from there the conversation flows. 

* * *

After dinner, which was surprisingly good excluding the moments of awkwardness when someone would mention something from Before, and Tony and Steve would both get a sad look on their faces that Peter is finding hard to decipher, Peter is sprawled on the couch playing Mario Kart with Sam and Clint when he sees Steve walk over to Tony. Tony’s body goes rigid almost immediately, and Peter is all but prepared to go and stage an intervention. But then Tony smiles, self-deprecating but honest, and Steve seems to instinctively move closer. 

_ “You’re good with him, Tony,” _ he catches Steve say, and realises quite suddenly that they’re talking about him. 

_ “I try to be,” _ Tony says softly.  _ “Not sure how successful I am.”  _

He forces his attention away. He feels too much like a voyeur, as if he is eavesdropping into a very intimate scene. It certainly looks like that, the way they seem to instinctively navigate closer towards each other. Clint seems to have followed his line of vision, because he suddenly speaks, breaking Peter out of his trance. “It wasn’t always like this, kid,” he says. 

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, genuinely confused. 

“I mean that we weren’t always so awkward and stilted. We used to all fit together once. Those two especially. They would always be together. Where there was Shellhead, there was his Winghead.” Clint laughs with nostalgia. 

Peter looks at him shocked, and Clint carries on. “We all loved each other. Love each other, even now, despite everything. But those two, they loved each other more than any of us combined. And they broke each other with just as much intensity. What I’m trying to say is,” Clint says, “they weren’t always like this. Well, mostly. The staring into each other’s eyes has always been a thing.” 

Suddenly, it all dawns on Peter. 

“Are they in love with each other?” he exclaims, immediately snapping his mouth shut as he sees Steve’s gaze whip across at him, his ears bright red. Right. Superhearing.

“Didn’t take you long to figure out, eh kid?” Sam says. “They really are that obvious.” 

“But? I mean?” Peter stammers. 

“Look, I don’t mean it’s a sure thing. I don’t know if they even know yet, and they definitely don’t know the other feels like that too. But anyone who spends more than two minutes with them can tell that they have been head over heels for each other for ten years, but are too damn stubborn and egotistical to ever do anything about it.” 

“He did something,” Peter blurts out. “I don’t know what it is, but it broke Mr Stark. I can see it, how sad he looks when he thinks no one is looking at him.” 

“They did a lot of things,” Natasha says, apparently having sat down with her legs over Clint’s lap without Peter noticing (stupid useless Spidey senses). “A lot of bad things. A lot of terrible things. Things they are too stubborn to talk about.” 

“How do we help them?” Peter asks. His brain is supplying him with the image of the brief moment during dinner when Mr Stark had interacted with Steve, had looked at him with warmth and softness, had looked relaxed in a way Peter can’t remember ever seeing him. Peter wants to see that Tony, every day. 

“Hope they get their heads out of their asses and sort it out?” Clint sighs. 

Hope. Huh. That requires patience. 

Peter Parker is known for many things, but patience is not one of them. 

And so, he begins formulating a plan. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we got matchmaker!Peter coming up folks *rubs hands* 
> 
> I promise I won't take another ten years to do it.

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter was supposed to be longer but I ended up splitting it into two cos it seemed more natural. there will be a second part, which will be the actual dinner. that one is only half written and should be up in a week or so, but I'm going to go watch Far From Home tomorrow and I wanted to get something light and fluffy out before I go on the Angst fest after tomorrow. 
> 
> hope you enjoyed!


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